Pirates of the Caribbean: Tales of Things and Such
by AtomikRiot
Summary: They're tales. They're about things. And such. OoOoO This Chapter: Jail cells and a short, angry business man. OoOoO [Mild WillLiz Major JackLiz]
1. When we last left our adventurers

**Author's Notes:** This is my first fic for Pirates and I do hope it's well received. Reviews are welcome and probably _over_-appreciated.

I'm doubtful regarding my ability to write for Jack well, so I hope he is not too OOC. If he is, please do not refrain from leaving constructive criticism as a review, those are always the most helpful. :P

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**Pirates of the Caribbean: Tales of Things and Such  
Chapter One: When We Last Left Our Not-So Intrepid Adventurers . . .**

* * *

The man groaned in displeasure as he pulled off his boot, pouring water and seaweed from it onto the white sandy beach, "Stranded again," he pulled off the second boot, ridding it of water and a rather troublesome crab, talking bemusedly to himself, "Just your luck, eh? Ah, better stranded than dead, I suppose."

He looked out across the now-so-peaceful looking sea from which he'd come. The water seemed to be tinted a slight pink all around, as though something rather large were bleeding beneath it, "Sorry, beastie," He tipped his tricorn towards the water respectfully, "But I'm afraid you'll have to remember today as the day you _almost _ate _Captain_. Jack. Sparrow," He looked around the strange island, "Now, with any luck, there'll be rum."

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"What have I done?" Elizabeth quietly questioned her pillow, on the verge of tears, "Oh, how could I have done such a thing? And now there's no way to get him back."

What little hope they had had of seeing Jack Sparrow again had vanished. Upon reaching the locker of Davy Jones, the land of the nautical dead, they had been unable to find, let alone rescue, the pirate captain she had left for bait for the Kraken. She whimpered a bit, pouring her thoughts out to no one but her pillow, "I didn't think I'd be sorry. He's just a pirate, he'd have done the same to me or Will," she attempted to reason with her bedsheets, "I told him I wasn't sorry. I shouldn't be sorry. He _was_ a criminal, anywa--"

A knock at her cabin door interrupted her monologue, her futile attempt at relieving herself of grief, "Elizabeth?"

"Will," she sighed happily, eager for an escape from her thoughts. She opened the door quickly to see the solemn looking young man waiting, "C-come in."

"Are you alright?" He pulled her into his arms, concerned, "You look like you've been crying."

"I-I'm fine," she laughed hesitantly, "I was just, eh, thinking . . . about our wedding. Missing it and all," she stepped away from him quickly, turning to rifle through some papers she'd never seen; no doubt property of the man who had slept here before Barbossa had . . . commandeered this ship.

"We all miss Jack," Will placed a comforting hand on her turned shoulder, feeling her shiver slightly beneath it. He gently turned her around with a stern look on his face, "Elizabeth, I don't know . . . I don't know what happened between you and Jack but I don't care. That-that's behind us now. For good. We will go back to Tortuga and we will have our wedding."

His words of comfort and reassurance did not soothe Elizabeth, however. Though the man was gone she couldn't deny that the feelings he had stirred within her remained. Jack Sparrow or none, she still felt guilty every time she looked into her fiance's knowing eyes. He had seen her on the deck of the Black Pearl. Her and Jack. Jack and her. _Them_. She knew she had hurt him and if anything his acceptance of what had happened just caused her more inner turmoil. That he was taking such . . . comfort? No, that wouldn't be the right word . . . That he was taking such solace in the loss of Jack Sparrow unsettled her.

_Why should he feel sorrow for Jack? _She questioned herself, looking into Will's gentle stare, _How many times had Jack traded Will's life for his own? Two? Three? More? Will's right to not be sorry. He's right. Jack's gone and there's nothing that can be done about it. I-I should move on. Wedding. Yes. Will and I will get married. That's what I wanted from the start, isn't it? And that's what I want now? Yes. Yes it is, _she thought stubbornly, sure she could talk herself out of such troublesome thoughts of a roguish pirate captain.

"Our wedding," she smiled at Will, finally prompting a smile from him as well, "Yes. That will be lovely. Finally," she laughed a bit, nervously.

He nodded and leaned in, kissing her lightly. His kisses were always loving and gentle, fine points in their own right, but now she could not help but know that they fell short of the passion she had felt behind one certain kiss.

As he left her to her thoughts she slumped back onto her hard bunk, thoughts of a kind man who loved her and cared for her and protected her so much once again at war with thoughts of a man who had, within moments of meeting her, saved her, stripped her to her undergarments, and traded her life for an old hat, a compass that didn't point North, and a pistol with only one shot.

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"What's that then?" Captain Richard Gentry handed his spyglass to his first mate who stood beside him as they both peered at the small islet off the port side of their ship.

"Where?"

"There, on the shore, moving about there."

"I-I think it's a person, sir," Rogers squinted through the glass, attempting to train it on the object darting back and forth and waving wildly at the ship as though dancing some sort of strange dance. He handed the glass back to his captain, "What do you make of it?"

"Probably some marooned pirate, I'd wager," he took another look at the figure, "He looks a fright. Well, we'd best pick him up. If he is a pirate there may be a price on his head, if we're lucky. Drop the rowboat and go get him."

"Aye, captain," he signaled to several crewmen to ready the boat, "Let's go pick him up, men."

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**Author's Notes:** My apologies for the shortness of this chapter. Am just trying to get all the introductory information out of the way before we get into the fun. :P Once again, please do review. This is no hostage fic (aka you review or I don't update sort of a thing) but I will say that I do really pay attention to my stories that obviously have loyal readers. :P 


	2. Tortugan Reunion

**Author's Notes:** Moving right along then. I'll try and get a new chapter up every day or so (Save Sunday, as I generally can't get online then.) to keep y'all satiated. :P Also, I'm putting up the revised first chapter as I put this one up, so you may want to go back and scan for changes. (Gave Jack's rescuers names, changed just small bits of minor importance, etc.)

**Author's Notes v2.0:** Sorry for missing the update the last day or so. Guess why. It's because I was so not happy with the last chapter (Chapter Three) that I decided I'd scrap it completely in favor of rewriting Jack's reunion with Elizabeth in a more fluffy manner. :P Not to mention after finding out certain cannon facts about Jack and Cutler Beckett I couldn't really continue with the story I'd wanted. So here's the updated second chapter to hopefully calm you down about my missing a day. :P

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**Pirates of the Caribbean: Tales of Things and Such**  
** Chapter Two: Tortugan Reunion**

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Elizabeth's stomach churned as she looked out across the water at Tortuga, the rowdy port most frequented by sailors of a fairly immoral persuasion. Was she nervous about her impending wedding, on the off-chance there were a clergyman to be found in Tortuga? Or was she frightened, perhaps? She shook her head, dismissing such thoughts as pre-wedding jitters . . . but the knot in her stomach did not come loose. 

She was happy, however, as the ship floated smoothly toward the dock, to see that the town was as lively and chaotic as ever. _Funny,_ she thought, _how I find this chaos comforting. Heh, maybe I really am a pirate,_ as the words quietly played across her mind the knot tightened a bit and she looked around, as though in fear that someone had heard her private musings.

Within an hour of being docked she and Will had managed to find the quietest inn in the town; meaning the sound was just barely above a dull roar and only the occasional gun shot was heard.

"I am going to try to find a church," he told her as he armed himself to the teeth, it being nightfall, after all, "Though we'll have to count ourself lucky if there's one to be found. You should stay here, it's dangerous," he cautioned her from the hallway as he left his room.

As he disappeared beyond the door frame and Elizabeth shut her door she couldn't help but roll her eyes slightly, _Please, I've been here before, Will. Alone. I'm not a child. And speaking of unchildish things . . . _she pushed open the door and peered into the hallway that Will had vacated. Assured that he'd left the building she followed his trail down the stairs and into the cacophony that was the Tortugan streets, _Where oh where was that bar?_

_

* * *

_

"There she is, men," Jack clapped Gentry and Rogers on the shoulders as they stood at his side, overlooking a town which, to their best guess, was under some sort of attack, what with all the shouting, brawling, and gunfire, "Tortuga, finest port on these waters. Beauty, ain't she?"

"It looks like there's some sort of rebellion going on," Rogers uneasily eyed the town through his spyglass, watching a man who appeared to be the mayor being pulled in and out of the well methodically.

"Aye. A beauty," Jack grabbed the gangplank as they neared the docks, a cheery tone in his voice, "Now, if you fine gents'll excuse me, I have a man to see about some rum."

"Hey! Hey! Not so fast there," the men tore themselves from the railings and grabbed the other end of the plank, "You were right nice to lead us to the closest port but I'm 'fraid now we'll have to turn you in, _Pirate_."

"Eheheheh," Jack tugged a bit on the plank held firmly by the other two men, "Right . . . well, you see . . . Tortuga isn't really your punishment capital of the world, don't you see," dropping the plank, he opted instead to walk to the railing, gesturing towards the riot that was the city, "In fact, I'd be quite surprised if there were an official in the whole town not drunk to the point of no return so if you'll just excuse me I'll be on my merry way. Thanks for the ride and all that, twas a pleasure," and with his hasty explanation and a quick wave of his hat he tipped himself backwards over the railing and into the sea below.

Holding his hat on with one hand he paddled his way to shore with the other while the two men watched from the boat, trying to decide whether to go after the man. In the end, however, they shrugged the odd castaway off and set to docking their ship as a soggy Jack walked out of the shallows into the din of Tortuga.

The catcalling and ever-fighting men in the streets paid the pirate no mind as he shook off as much water as he could and set sights on the epicenter of madness, a multi-story tavern home to the most beautiful wenches, horrendous pirates, and coldest rum in Tortuga.

The scene within matched that without as he dodged a flying bottle crashing into the door as he closed it behind him. The music was nearly as loud as the patrons as he ducked and dodged his way to the bar, "Ahoy, barkeep, bring me some rum," he shouted loud as he could at the man only two feet from him.

Bottle in hand, Jack turned to behold the madhouse he had waded through for his precious rum, seeking out interesting, familiar, or perhaps just beautiful faces . . . and beautiful other bits, of course.

His dark eyes peered out from under his tricorn, playing across the readily visible busts of the tavern women and taking clear note of the most disgusting and dangerous looking of pirates who had taken refuge in their drink. He smiled hugely, raising the bottle to the room as a whole and shouting at no one in particular, "Tortuga, I have missed you. But you'll always be here for me, won't you, darling?" and with his toast he finished half of the bottle handed to him in one swig, lumbering off to find a nice semi-sheltered corner to sit in.

As he edged his way along the wall, taking careful note of where the flying bottles and chairs were landing, he found his way into a darker, and if at all possible, quieter part of the tavern. Truth be told, he had no problem with the noise, but having to dodge the flying fists and debris could be quite distracting when you were trying to get drunk.

He took another generous helping of the bottle and as he tipped it back down and peered out from over it his glance caught a face that was both beautiful and familiar. If his smile was huge already his grin was even huger and certainly more scandalous, "'Ello, love," he smiled to himself, setting a course for the young woman who had also found herself a large bottle of rum, which Jack noted seemed near empty.

He side-stepped quickly to be out of her range of sight as he approached and handed his bottle to a passing, fairly plastered man who took it readily and finished it off. As he neared a rather-drunk Governor's-daughter-turned-pirate she tilted the rum bottle up, finishing her own bottle of rum in one big swig.

"Why is the rum always gone, Elizabeth?" He would have whispered it in her ear as he took place just inches behind her and rested his chin on her hunched shoulder save the din around them caused him to need to shout a bit louder than he would have liked to.

She cringed visibly at the bellowing in her ear and turned her head, confused and a tad drunk, to see who's head she was about to crack her empty bottle over. Dark eyes twinkled back from the pirate face an inch from her own as Jack cracked a grin for her to see. She stared at his face a bit, making sure she was correct in her recognition. After a moment of silence she squinted her eyes a bit and finally brought the empty rum bottle down on Jack's smiling face. With a shatter of glass his head began to throb and after a rather confused blink his legs felt like jelly and he was face to floor with . . . well, the glass-covered floor.

He fought to keep conscious, his eyes chasing the black spots and funny looking stars, "I _really_ don't think I deserved that," he shouted near-incoherently into the floorboards.

Elizabeth shakily regained her feet and stood beside him, pointing a new, full rum bottle accusingly at the stunned pirate, "That, _Captain_ Jack Sparrow," she swayed a bit, trying to stay in balance as the room swayed the other way, "Was for making me worry."

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**Author's Notes:** I hope you like the new version. Not much changed save the most important bit: Then ending. Also I'll be able to pack the next chapter with lots of fluff. 

Now, the question I pose to you, my outstanding readers: Would you prefer a rocky 'rebuild the relationship they almost had' story, or a 'dive in like a real man and to hell with the consequences' angle? The first would have more awkward fluff; the second significantly more . . . mature themes.

The good news: Now that I have it going in a direction I want I should be able to keep with my chapter-a-day claim. So please review regardless of whether you liked this version or the previous one better.


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